


When Given Another Chance...

by Silicu (silmil)



Category: Doom (2005), Star Trek
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Meld, Near Death Experiences, Other, Reaper!Bones, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmil/pseuds/Silicu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim, Bones and Spock have a sable and good relationship, but something is missing. And when Bones, once more refuses to meld with the Vulcan, would a fight be the last they have?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Given Another Chance...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShutUp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShutUp/gifts).



> Inspired by my awesome tumblr. conversations and headcanon sharing with Isa and dedicated to her!

Phaser shots flew over his head while louder explosions still shook the building. The ruined structure trembled with every blast from outside and Jim felt his heart jump every time.

He’d never felt this sick by the sight of green before.

The dust was finally clearing from the air and he forcefully pulled his arm from under the debris, ignoring the pain and the red painting what was left of his shirt sleeve. He could still fucking move, this was nothing, he was fine, but Spock…

Dear god, all the green! His heart jumped in his throat at the sight of his First Officer on the ground, a long wooden post from the interior of the house stabbed clean through his chest.

“Spock!” He dashed towards the Vulcan, discarding his phaser in his haste. Blood, so much blood, he had to stop it, had to slow it down. His friend (brother, lover, _t’hy’la_ ) was gasping for breath but couldn’t seem to take one. Green blood was gushing from his mouth as a desperate cough shook his body, green drops painting the floor and Jim’s hands.

No, no this wasn’t going to be it; he wasn’t going to let it!

His hands flew to where the piece of wood was sticking from Spock’s chest and pressed his hands there, trying to see how bad the damage was. He didn’t know enough about Vulcan biology, didn’t know what was where, which area was dangerous, what he needed to do.

Goddamn it, how could he _not know_?

A paling, strangely weak hand closed around his wrist and his mind seemed to swim with pain, but beyond that-

_“I don’t see why I need to do this!”_

_“You’re a part of this relationship, Bones and it’s important to Spock, you ass! Have you ever thought about that?”_

_“It’s my head, Jim, my mind and I’d rather keep it that way! I’m already giving everything I have, everything I am to you, to him and to this goddamned ship! Can’t you let me keep my mind at least?”_

“Spock, stop, forget about that, talk to me!” He said as he tried to keep pressure on the wound.

Hurt and sorrow crashed into him, but there was something else.

I never meant for it to tear you apart. Tell Leonard I am sorry. Forgive him, Jim.

“Damn it, stop, don’t talk like that!” he could feel tears stinging in his eyes.

Anger and fear and helplessness and Jim, I’m going to die, Jim.

“No! No, stop! Scotty’ll figure out the signal, he’ll beam us up!” He was almost hysterical, trying to scream over the thoughts and emotions being projected directly into his mind.

Contentedness, happiness, gratitude, warmth, I’m so glad I met the both of you.

“It’ll be alright, Spock, Bones will fix you up, he always does, you know he does!”

The dark eyes barely focused on him and he could feel Spock’s body growing still.

His communicator beeped from his belt and he almost dropped it in his efforts to open it faster. His hands, sticky and covered in green blood painted everything he touched.

“Scotty!” He yelled into the receiver. “Two to sickbay, Scotty, do it now, now! Now!”

The familiar pull of the transporter beam and suddenly there was motion all around him, medical blue uniforms pulling him away, tearing Spock from his hands and Bones’ voice yelling over them all to _Get that thing out of his chest, I need clean gloves yesterday, Chapel get the regenerators, I want those bags with Vulcan blood stat_. Jim couldn’t breathe, almost trembling where he was still kneeling on the floor. Spock thought he was going to die, he really, really believed it, and all he could do in the end was to apologize… Damn it, it hadn’t even been his fault!

And now, if he didn’t make it… But he would. Bones! Bones would save him. He’d bring him back just like he did for Jim every time. He had to!

-.-.-

Five hours in surgery. Five goddamn hours elbows deep in Spock’s chest, green blood staining his blue uniform. Five hours of extracting all of the shrapnel remaining in the Vulcan’s body, closing up destroyed blood vessels and punctures on his internal organs. Five hours of reattaching, regenerating and reshaping his rib cage back into what it used to be, of preparing to finally close him up and hope he had made it on time.

Five hours of not knowing whether Spock was going to make it.

He’d entered some kind of healing trance that had definitely helped at the final stages, but had brought all unessential bodily functions to the bare minimum, making his heartbeat unsteady and slow, weak enough to be of no help in compensating for the blood loss.

Bones couldn’t know if he’d been on time. If his efforts had paid off, if he had managed to stop any brain damage. He didn’t know if Spock’s nerve system had properly recovered.

As he was laid out on the operating table, Spock had tried to reach for him, to touch him and Bones had known what was coming. Spock had wanted to tell him something and the doctor had pulled away, too terrified with the man’s life in his hands. “Not now, Spock, save it for when I save your sorry ass!”

Everything could’ve gone wrong.

But there was nothing else he could do. Nothing left for now, nothing but to wait and hope that the Vulcan would pull through. Because he had to.

Bones pulled away from the OR, leaving the regenerators to do their work on closing up the last of the gashes in the First Officer’s chest. He pulled off his gloves and scrubs and all but bolted towards the bathrooms, locking the door behind himself and leaning against the sink.

If he hadn’t done everything right, if he’d failed, if Spock didn’t make it…

Goddamn, the last time they’d been the tree of them they had gotten into a fight, the worst fight they’d had yet. What if that was the last time they’d have? What if he lost Spock? If he…

He felt bile rise in his throat and bent over the sink, violently emptying his stomach.

_“I want to do a mind meld with you,” Spock had said the previous night, not for the first time. Bones had immediately pulled away, because the touch telepathy of his lover was one thing, but letting his mind be completely opened and pressed against his? He couldn’t - too much past he didn’t want known, too many secrets, too many goddamn_ years. 

He’d thought that after all he’d seen, first as a soldier, then as a doctor, there was nothing his stomach couldn’t handle. But the thought of losing Spock after last night… Losing him when the Vulcan thought he didn’t want his closeness, that he would never allow him this bond that was natural for him…

Bile scratched at the back of his throat as he heaved a few more times and then, when he was finally calming down, he looked up.

His eyes were red-rimmed. He was fucking crying.

He needed to grab a hold of himself. There were still patients back there, he was the CMO, he could not allow himself to crash right now. The crew needed him. Jim needed him.

Dear god, if Spock died Jim’d never forgive him. He’d lose them both, just like that.

Breathing in deeply, Bones washed up quickly and put back his doctor face on. When everything else failed, he knew work could keep him occupied for a while with the small crisis that they’d had on the planet-side mission.

As he exited back into the havoc of his sickbay, orders flew out of his mouth and he was going through it all on autopilot, trying desperately to keep himself from as much as thinking how much he could lose if Spock never woke up.

-.-.-

The rest of beta shift flew by unnoticed, and most of gama passed by him by the time his surgeries were done and no one was in immediate danger. Handing back the PADD to the nurse in charge for the night, Bones looked back towards the private rooms. Chapel had told him earlier that Spock was awake and stable, that all tests proved within the normal for Vulcans and that he was fully conscious and no brain damage had been discovered.

Still, that had been hours earlier and he hadn’t dared to go anywhere near that room before he was done with everything urgent. If he went there, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be leaving for a very long time.

He was tired. His muscles ached from the long hours he’d spent on edge, tensed and working over multiple patients. He desperately needed a shower and his mind was running a mile an hour. But first, most important, he felt this suffocating need to lay his eyes on Spock, to know for certain the man was fine.

The door to Spock’s room had been left opened, and just as he was about to question as to who was responsible, he stepped over the threshold and felt his heart finally beat normally again.

Not only did Spock appear to have recovered almost completely, but he was conscious and awake. And while the readings over the bed were useless because of its second occupant, he could see the Vulcan moving his hand with his always present precision.

The other occupant, being Jim Kirk who had somehow managed to squeeze himself onto the biobed aside his t’hy’la, wrapped almost entirely around him, feet entwined arm thrown carefully over Spock’s middle, fingers locked with the Vulcan’s, face buried in his neck. Spock’s free hand was buried in his hair, lightly running his long fingers through it in a comforting manner.

“Leonard,” Spock greeted him quietly, as he slipped the door closed behind himself and put the lock on.

Jim seemed to rouse himself at the noise and uncovering his face from Spock’s neck he blinked drowsily towards his CMO. He looked tired and drained but Bones was still too worried about their fight to start ordering him to rest right off the hook. He needed to know everything was ok, and even though the other two hadn’t thrown him away yet he was still uncertain.

“Hey, Bones,” he murmured as he pulled one hand up to rub at his eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” the doctor asked as he stepped closer to the bed.

“Fine,” he delivered immediately, like Bones couldn’t tell when he was lying. Seriously, why did he even try anymore?

“Sure you are,” he grouched, and he couldn’t help it, it was just his natural reaction to the kid. “If you’re so fine, jump off so I can check his readings, would you?”

Grinning in his usual way, Jim pulled himself up to a sitting position and then stretched one hand towards Bones. The doctor felt warmth spread through his chest at the motion. He grabbed Jim’s hand easily and pulled him off the bed, and when the kid made no effort to stand on his own feet, caught him easily as he practically fell into his arms.

A moment later, Jim’s arms were locked around his shoulders and his face buried into his neck and Bones found himself holding him around the waist.

“’m sorry,” Jim murmured into the curve of his shoulder. “I was being an ass. I still believe you should let him, but… It’s your choice. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

At those words, Bones finally felt like things would be alright. His shoulders sank in relief and he squeezed Jim around the middle, delivering a small kiss to the side of his neck. Then he pushed the kid to sit on the bedside chair and turned towards the readings on the bed. Everything looked fine and Bones felt lighter all of a sudden, like the worry had been weighing him down the entire day.

He couldn’t have hoped for the man to make a better recovery.

Reaching out, he switched off the sensors on the bed and sat down on it, facing Spock who was now leaning against the pillows.

“How’re you feeling?” He repeated his question, because he didn’t know how to say what he wanted. He couldn’t help but notice how the Vulcan was keeping his hands to himself, where he had been very pointedly touching Jim in every way he could earlier. He could understand that Spock was trying to respect his wishes, but it hurt deep inside to know he had caused his lover to pull away like that.

“As healthy as would be expected after such an accident,” Spock replied in his calm voice. “If I were to step into another healing trance, I believe a full recovery would be reached within 4.76 hours.”

“That’s good,” Bones murmured and locked their eyes together.

He’d been scared of what the Vulcan could pull out of his mind. Terrified at the idea that someone would know even now, so many years after everything had happened. And terrified, again, at what that knowledge could do to the three of them. He’d finally found something worth keeping in his Captain and First Officer and losing that…

But, he realized, it would be so much worse if he didn’t trust them with this. If he kept shying away from it, at some point Jim would start pushing again. It wasn’t his fault; it was just how he was. He would want Bones and Spock to share this, would want them to be happy in this way, even if he didn’t know how much that could cost them.

If Bones kept running away from this, he could lose them both so much sooner than he’d like…

So, he made a decision and reached one hand towards the Vulcan, palm turned up. Spock blinked at him and didn’t seem to understand.

“Your hand?” Bones pushed with a patient smile.

A moment later Spock put his hand on Bones’, but the doctor could still feel him holding back. There wasn’t that soft hum in the back of his mind, not the feeling of being united with another. He was holding his telepathy and it made something in Bones’ stomach squeeze uncomfortably. He’d never imagined he’d get this kind of result with his outburst last night.

So he squeezed his fingers around Spock’s and then pulled his hand up, pressing it palm-first to the side of his face.

“Do it,” he nudged, looking the other in the eyes.

“Leonard, you do not need to do this,” Spock tried half-heartedly to pull his hand away. “I respect your desire for privacy and I will not ask this of you again.”

“Yeah, too bad, cause you’re doing it,” Bones said and pressed the palm harder against his cheek. “We almost lost you today. And through it all, all I could think about was how I was scared shitless and denied you something very important because of it. I’m not doing that again, Spock. So do it.”

“Bones?” Jim had obviously abandoned the chair and was hovering behind the doctor’s back. He sounded surprised and uncertain, but Bones would have none of that.

“Look, you’re gonna die one day, everybody does,” except for me, he thought and was almost certain that it had slipped through their contact, because Spock raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “And I’d rather know that I’d done everything I could’ve than have regrets, ok? So, I want you to do it. Maybe, if you could, you could do it with the tree of us at some point. But for now… Come on,” he laid his free hand on Spock’s thigh over the covers and smiled at him.

The hand pressed against his face shifted, finger sliding into place and he felt the anxiety inside him rise, but pushed it back. A moment passed, and he felt something brushing against his mind, a connection so much deeper than that of Spock’s usual telepathy, so much stronger.

He took a deep breath and-

And he was plunged into memories and emotions, feeling the other’s mind press so firmly into his that it slipped into the tiny cracks, enveloped it and they were one and it was glorious. They knew one another inside-out. They knew what it was to be a marine and to kill their friend and officer, they knew what it was to be a child of two worlds who belonged to neither, they knew years and years of running and destroying and making sure they didn’t exist, and they knew years more of trying to be what they were supposed to but never could.

They knew childish happiness and the pain of being alone, they knew eternity and they knew each other.

And they knew love, the love shared between three damaged hearts and all of its power and potential.

It was minutes and it was hours and it was years that they knew each other, and then, slowly, carefully, they pulled apart.

And Bones could breathe again.

Spock looked at him, shock so clear on his face his Vulcan relatives would forever disown him. His hand slipped off of Bones’ face, but the doctor interlocked their fingers and refused to let go.

“I did not know…” Spock tried, but Bones shook his head, still trying to get his mind working on its own again.

“Nobody knows,” he offered and felt gentle warmth spread through their united fingers. “I made sure of it.”

“What? Know what?” Jim finally pulled the attention towards himself again and Bones felt a light question into his mind.

Should I?

Yeah, he thought back at the Vulcan and shifted to make some room for Jim to step closer to them.

Spock brushed his free hand against Jim’s exposed wrist and the captain quickly crouched next to the bed so that his face was accessible. The Vulcan had to cross his hands in a rather uncomfortable way to reach his face, but Bones couldn’t make himself release the other hand due to the fear that still lingered.

It was all he could do to just sit there and wait while Jim saw and knew everything about him.

He was still terrified.

He could feel the echo of the mind meld through the contact he kept with Spock. A barely there whisper of what was being shared by the most important people to him. And just for a moment, he let his mind wonder, he imagined what it would be for all three of them to share something like this. What it would be to have Jim’s mind inside of his, his brightness and heat and overwhelming emotion shared between them, of Spock’s strong presence there as well, keeping them grounded and together and one.

After such a short time (had it been so fast, what he and Spock shared? It felt like lifetimes, not seconds…) Jim blinked and leaned forwards against the bed as if he needed the support.

“Holy shit…” his wide blue eyes moved towards Bones and his mouth hung open. Then, “You’re a super soldier? Seriously?”

Still not letting go of Spock’s hand, Bones reached down towards the crouching man and lifted him to his feet without any difficulty. Jim withstood the manhandling with the usual grace he had around Spock in bed – becoming suddenly and irreversibly aroused. The signs were so clear from this close, Bones could’ve laughed.

“Holy shit,” he repeated. “That’s hot.”

“You’re not even going to mention my being 240 years old?” Bones raised an eyebrow and suddenly found himself with a lapful of Jim.

“The years’ve been kind to you, old man” the damn kid grinned in his face and then slipped his hands into Bones’ head and kissed him as if his life depended on it.

It was understanding and forgiveness and apology and love all rolled up into one and it felt like something so important and vital that Bones didn’t know how he’d lived without it until then.

And as Jim proceeded to suck the breath out of him, Spock’s hand shifted into his, rubbing their fingers together, sending pleasurable sparks up and down his spine.

These two would be the death of him, but there was little he could do but hold on for the ride.

And when he finally came down from the post-coital bliss on the too-small biobed wrapped in warmth, he realized that nothing had changed.

They knew, but they didn’t care. Nothing between them had changed, if anything, they’d come closer by sharing his dark past. And he realized that they would be ok, despite of everything. With a content smile, he pulled them in tighter, closer to himself and fell into a deep sleep.


End file.
